


Monsieur Américaine

by VirginiasWolf



Series: Life Moves On [24]
Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: F/M, Gratuitous usage of French, idk i just wanted to tag that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 14:17:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21495664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VirginiasWolf/pseuds/VirginiasWolf
Summary: Richard and Camille have to work with some rather unpleasant American federal agents during an investigation.Part of the Life Moves On series
Relationships: Camille Bordey/Richard Poole
Series: Life Moves On [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1456375
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Monsieur Américaine

**Author's Note:**

> This story idea came about because a friend and I were discussing a particular American crime drama (which I will not name) that we'd both watched in our teen/tween years and have since realized that both the male and female leads were actually kind of not great people. The series also happened to have a two part episode that took place in the UK (yeah I know that might give away the show...oops) which led to the conversation topic turning to how I wanted to write a fic about Richard and Camille not being down with those two's shit. This isn't actually a crossover fic, but I left the FBI agent and his scientist nameless so that people like my friend can pretend.

The moment they pull into the parking garage, Camille eyes the red car already parked nearby and lets out a loud groan. "I do not want to spend another day working with Monsieur Américaine and Dame Squelette."

  
At this Richard can't help but pause. The sentiment is certainly shared, but her terminology is a bit expressive. "Did you honestly just call the American forensics expert Lady Skeleton?"

  
"There are many far ruder terms I could have used." Camille starts to get out of the driver's seat with a heavy step, but suddenly she lights up. "You understood my French."  
It's moments like these that make Richard choke. He has been practicing his French with Fidel over Skype, and of course he's been doing so specifically for her. Being French is an essential part of who she is, and being with her is an essential part of who he is. The way her face lights up makes him want to reveal that she is the reason he has done so. "Well, my wife happens to be French."

  
"Yes, but I am not your wife right now." The fraternization rules here are much stricter than they would be on Saint Marie, so they spend their days pretending that they don't spend their nights curled up together. It's a small price, but at least it means they still get to be work partners.

  
Richard suspects this act has fooled only the daftest of Croydonites, but they are also very good at the detecting part of their jobs and this has given them some advantage. Too good perhaps Richard muses, as they are the ones who were assigned a case involving the probable skeletonized remains of an American diplomats' daughter, and by extension also assigned the visiting FBI agent and his forensic anthropologist partner. Much like Camille, Richard is also not eager to work with the so-called Monsieur Américaine and Dame Squelette.

  
They are alone in the elevator and Camille immediately sighs, "You know, I had thought you English were entitled, but Americans are a far worse variety, especially American men. If that man addresses you one more time when I am asking a question, I will strangle him."

  
From the elevator, they make their way through the throng of desks to find their own and Richard is met with another annoyance. The FBI agent is just finishing up with erasing the whiteboard that Richard and Camille had used to write out the details of the case. 

  
"What do you think you're doing?" Richard tries to keep the anger out of his voice. He isn't a violent man by nature, but right now he is very much imagining helping Camille find a cord to strangle the man.

  
"Your partner forgot to take this down yesterday." Of course, it must be the fault of the woman being her careless, silly hormonal self. Especially since the woman in question is also not white and talks with a "funny" accent, and here Richard was thinking that Camille was worthy of not being treated like some sort of servant because she is a human being with thoughts and feelings. How dare he make the mistake of believing that she's a person and therefore deserves respect.

  
"We write out the whiteboard together," he states trying to keep the edge out of his voice. He may be so annoyed that he is about to turn into a distinctly not Richard Poole rage machine, but he has to keep his mind clear.

  
Or at least he feels he does until Camille hisses something in his ear. "He went through my desk drawers to find the eraser. I know I put it away last night when we left." It doesn't matter that the FBI agent is standing right there, it's not like he'll choose to hear her comment anyway.

  
With this, Richard flicks his eyes back towards the man and notes for the first time that his partner isn't with him. He must have dropped her off to work in the morgue. "I don't know how things are done in your Washington DC office, but here it is very improper to go through desk drawers without permission from the person whom the desk belongs to." The FBI agent stares blankly, but there is the slightest twitch of movement that makes Richard think he might understand what was said. It wouldn't be fair to the diplomat's daughter to spend all morning trying to get through the clod of a skull that may or may not house a brain inside of it, so Richard turns back to the person he actually wants to talk to. "Camille, we should get drinks from the break room. Long day ahead of us."

  
Much to his shock, before they walk away, Camille immediately turns to the FBI agent with a big smile plastered on her face. "Sir, would you like us to bring you a coffee as well?"

  
As soon as they're in the break room, Richard turns to her. "Why are you being nice to him?! He's practically dehumanizing you!"

  
"I was not being nice to him! I was being strategic! If I had not offered to bring a drink back for him, he may have followed us and I would have lost my ability to talk to you in private!" As if she is trying to prove her point, Camille immediately picks up the coffee pot which contains a liquid that is so old it could almost be alive and dumps the contents into a mug before adding a spoonful of the practically moldy looking grounds from the wet filter. "That is his coffee!"

  
Richard only barely manages to keep from gagging as he looks at the swirling mess. "I can't believe he erased our bloody whiteboard! How much work have we lost?"

  
"Richard, how long have you been practicing your French for?" 

  
He isn't entirely sure why Camille is bringing up that topic, perhaps she's trying to calm him down. "I've umm, I first started while we were on Saint Lucia, so about six months now. I don't see how that's relevant here."

  
"Because if you are reasonably fluent in French, and I am also fluent in French and Monsieur Américaine is not, then we should speak French when fixing our whiteboard."

  
Somehow Richard had imagined his first French conversation with his wife being one where he impressed her with all the sexy things he suddenly knew how to whisper, not one where they discussed the details of a case, but he does find this opportunity to be just the right kind of spiteful.

  
When they return to their desks, the FBI agent is sitting in Camille's seat looking at the photos she has arranged. There are two, one is of her with Catherine outside of La Kaz, and the other is of her deceased friend Aimee, but Richard knows that if it wasn't for the fraternization policies she'd happily include a third photo which is of him reading a book to Rosie Best. 

  
The FBI agent is currently holding the photo of Camille with her mother, and he immediately puts it down and says what may be the first sentence he's spoken to Camille since arriving in London. "Is this is your partner?"

  
Richard suddenly decides he has had more than enough with this idiot. Not only is he too stupid to realize that the photograph is clearly of two people in a familial pose, but he can't even outright state what he believes the relationship in the photo is. Instead of letting Camille answer, he steps in. "No! The woman in that photograph is Camille's mother, but if they were romantically involved the correct term would be either wife or girlfriend! Also, if you do not get out of Sergeant Bordey's chair right now I will remove you by force." Richard pauses for a moment and realizes that Camille looks almost as surprised as the FBI agent. Trying not to spill any he takes the man's coffee mug from her hands and thrusts it towards the now standing man. "Here is your coffee. J'espère que vous s'étouffe."

  
At that exact moment, the FBI agent's phone buzzes and he steps away from them to take his call. As soon as he walks away Camille steps past Richard, purposely brushing against him before sitting down at her desk. "This is a side of you I have not seen before."

  
Suddenly feeling calmed down Richard shrugs before taking a sip of his tea and placing the mug on Camille's desk. "May I have the whiteboard marker please?" For several minutes everything almost feels normal. Richard replaces their notes and clues on the board while Camille dictates instructions to him. Of course, the fact that they are indeed conversing in French does feel a little odd, but not enough to make Richard uncomfortable. Then the cloud returns. Richard is vaguely aware of the FBI agent returning and chooses to break back into English long enough to tell the man to not even think about sitting in his chair, before returning to speaking French while trying to keep up the act of not even being aware he is doing so. 

  
Although he spends most of the conversation feeling extremely nervous that his pronunciation is still terribly butchered, as he writes the last line on the board Camille gives him one of her secretive yet still dazzling smiles before stating, "Vous faites très bien, mon amour." Their agent friend, however, does not look quite so pleased although Richard does note with some horror that the man has finished his coffee.

  
At this Richard can't help but wonder if he can survive the whole case without wanting to slip something much, much stronger into the FBI agent's drink.  


**Author's Note:**

> And now for translating the French (not translating the nicknames because Richard translates one and the other looks fairly self-explanatory):
> 
> J'espère que vous s'étouffe.- I hope you choke on it.
> 
> Vous faites très bien, mon amour.- You are doing very well, my love.


End file.
